The Wayne Family: Shenanigans
by Violet Rose of Darkness
Summary: A one-shot collection connecting to my Wayne Family series! Please read those first or risk confusion. Just a few silly things for those in-between moments (and when I'm too lazy to update the main fic).
1. Speedsters

**So, I always planned to start this little mini-series for this AU only because I feel like it'll be a lot of fun and I also need an outlet for the main series. Anyway, please enjoy!**

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Dick was practically vibrating with excitement.

He and Wally had made plans to spend the afternoon together! They never got to hang out much, but that was alright because they would get to today! Of course, he just had to ask for permission, but he was sure Leta and Damian would say yes. Leta was always saying that he needed to spend more time with other people and he was sure Damian wouldn't care either way.

He just had to make sure to keep Wally away from him. Yes, definitely. The redhead asked too many questions.

Dick strolled into the kitchen that Saturday morning, unable to keep the wide grin off his face. "Hey, guys," he greeted cheerfully, observing the three oldest. Stephanie was spooning the thick oatmeal in front of her, a look of disgust on her face. Damian simply had a cup of tea in front of him and Leta was standing near the stove.

That explained why Stephanie wasn't eating.

Speaking of the blond, she was the first to notice him. "Hey, Dickie," she chirped pleasantly, ever the friendly one. He had always found it ironic that the nicest person in the family was the one with the brightest hair.

This caught Leta's attention and she smiled. "Good morning, Richard," she greeted. She jumped as the oatmeal began to boil over and moved it to another burner. "Hungry?"

Dick shook his head. "No thanks, Le, I'm good," he politely declined. Leta was good at a lot of things- combating, investigating, leading- but cooking was not one of them. He grinned at the young man at the table. "Hi, Dami."

Damian gave him a curt nod. "Richard." His emerald eyes narrowed a second later. "Do not call me Dami." Dick expected nothing more, nothing less. And, according to Tim, Damian's words had long lost their sting.

Leta tilted her head, observing him. He hated it when she did that. "Is there something that you wanted to tell us, Richard?" she questioned.

Dick rocked on the balls of his sleep, his confidence suddenly dwindling. He knew that Leta and Damian meant well, but they could both be overprotective when Bruce and Alfred were away. Would they really say yes? "I, uh..."

Stephanie laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Dickie," she assured him. Understanding shone in her pretty pale eyes. "You can tell us anything."

He took a deep breath; they were only his siblings. It wasn't like they would bite his head off. "I was just... wondering if Wally could come over today," he blurted. He bit his lip, gauging their reactions.

Damian blinked. "Who?" he asked uncaringly.

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Iris' little brother," she clarified.

Damian's face darkened. "No," he decided crisply with sudden hostility that startled Dick. His eyes narrowed with slight contempt. "I will not have another Speedster in this house."

"What?" stumbled Dick, surprised at the reaction. He hadn't thought Damian would even acknowledge it. "Why not?"

This time, it was Leta who rolled her eyes. "Of course Wallace can come over," she amended. Her mouth formed a thin, annoyed line. "Damian has a problem with Speedsters, apparently. He never liked Danica, either." Danica Williams, he recalled, was Leta's friend, the adopted daughter of Barry Allen, and held the alias of Lady Flash. She was pretty cool; even Wally thought so.

Stephanie shrugged. "I never understood why that was," she admitted, her eyebrows furrowing in thought. "It wasn't like she was as silly as Bart or even Barry. She was always smart and sensible and nice. I liked her and I thought you would have at least tolerated her."

Damian scowled, though it was mainly directed at his older sister. "_You've_ never walked in on them," he snapped at the blond, his cheeks tinged pink. Damian never blushed.

Dick's jaw dropped at the implication as he watched Leta's cheeks turn a brilliant shade of red. It was as if her carefully-crafted composure had slipped from her face. "You should have knocked!" she hissed, glaring at her brother.

Stephanie seemed as shocked as he was. "Hold on, you and Danica were screwing?" she demanded. Her lips curled into a shit-eating grin. "Holy shit! How come you never told me? Did Bruce know?"

Leta gave her a withering look, making him flinch. "Watch your mouth," she hissed, gesturing to him. "And for your information, it was none of your business, nor was it Father's."

Dick blinked, allowing this information to sink in. He hadn't known that she and Danica had been a thing. Were they still a thing? He shook his head of these thoughts; now wasn't the time. He was a man on a mission. "So, can Wally come over or...?"

"Yes!" decided Leta loudly, her face still redder than said Speedsters hair. "Wallace can come over at one today and your brother is going to keep his mouth shut!" She gave Damian a wide, fake smile. Though, since she never really mastered "Right, dearest brother?"

Damian scowled up at her. "I have better things to concern myself with anyway," he bit out, standing up from the table and leaving the kitchen.

Leta's eyebrow twitched. "I'm going to meet Donna and Cassandra for brunch," she announced, also stalking away.

Dick peered up at Stephanie. "What just happened?"

The blond shrugged. "Who knows with those two?" She ran her fingers through his hair. "Do you want me to make you and Wally cupcakes for this afternoon?"

"He'll appreciate that."

OoOoOo

**Yes, Leta is bisexual. And yes, both Danica and Rex will be her main romantic interactions. And yes, Damian despises both of them, but who doesn't Damian despise? And yes, poor Dick just wants to have his best bud over. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	2. Sneaking Out Part 1

**I had way too much fun writing this chapter. Please enjoy!**

**Leta: 14  
Damian: 13  
Stephanie: 16  
Tim: 15  
**

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The first time Leta sneaked out, Bruce couldn't even call it sneaking.

Leta had heavy footsteps. Or at least, heavy considering that she had gone through _his_ training. Whether it was because of her Amazon upbringing or just something she had, he wasn't sure. But apparently, she knew better than to try to creep past him. No, she opted to march right up to him instead.

He could only stare at her as she squared her shoulders and looked him right in the eye. "Father," she greeted with a nod of her head. Her tone was an imitation of Diana's commanding one, he thought vaguely. Or maybe it was Hippolyta's. While the two were different in many ways, Diana had retained some of her mother's mannerisms.

Bruce simply nodded back. "Leta," he replied. He would have scolded her, but he wanted to see how she would handle the situation. "What are you up to at this hour of the night?"

His fourteen-year-old raised her chin. "I will be taking the transporters to Detroit," she announced. Her eyes narrowed as she struggled to keep a straight face.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?" They were supposed to be heading out on patrol soon, but that- apparently- wasn't on her agenda. He would have been annoyed if he wasn't so amused. "And what is the occasion?"

Leta's facade faltered as she peered up at him innocently. "Rex is back from camp," she admitted softly. "I wanted to be there to surprise him."

Internally, Bruce groaned. She and Rex Stewart had always been close, too close for his liking. Unlike most different-gender friendships, their relationship didn't seem to be dwindling as they grew older either. In fact, he had a feeling that they were closer than his daughter had let on. The worst part was, he couldn't even complain because Rex was the only one who could fully bring Leta out of her shell.

He sighed heavily. "You have until nine," he allowed. Damian would probably make jabs about how his sister wasn't as dedicated as him, but he would just ignore it. She followed every one of his orders without question, she could be a bit late for patrol. He wanted his children to have friends. He wished Damian would expand his circle outside of just Jon and Colin.

Leta beamed. "Thank you father," she exclaimed, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. She hurried down to the cave and he soon heard the Zeta-Beam whisk her away.

Bruce ran his fingers through his dark hair. It was nearly impossible for him to ever tell her no. He made a mental note to tell John and Shayera to make sure their son kept his hands to himself.

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Damian had only gone out because he was grounded.

Bruce watched with a raised eyebrow as the security around the manor stopped Damian from making it past the gate. His son reeled from the shock, falling flat onto his back. Bruce chose this time to make his presence known, stepping into the dim light. "Then you wonder why I can't trust you on the field," he drawled sarcastically. Why couldn't he listen as well as Leta?

Though, he knew that wasn't a fair comparison. Damian and Leta- despite coming from similar backgrounds- were very different children. Leta only listened to him out of obligation and- from his speculation- fear. Damian didn't listen for the sole purpose that he was being asked to resist his upbringing. Bruce couldn't fault him for that.

Though, that didn't make him any less frustrated.

Damian stood up, glowering at him. "That scum deserved it!" he insisted vehemently behind his domino mask. "Did you not hear the comments made toward my sister, your _daughter_?"

Bruce nearly winced at the reminder. As his children grew, there seemed to be more prying eyes, more attention to their physical features. The comments in question had ignited rage even in himself. So much so that he almost considered not stopping Redbird. It didn't stop on the streets either; he saw the wondering eyes of men toward Leta. He took notice at the stares of women that lingered on Damian for too long.

If he'd had his way, neither of them would have to deal with it.

"Leta is perfectly capable of handling herself," he responded slowly. His eyes narrowed at his son. "Those remarks didn't warrant you shattering his collarbone."

Honestly, Bruce had been surprised by the reaction. He didn't think that Damian and Leta were that close, yet one always had the other's back. No matter what it was, the two were nearly always on the same side. They argued, yes, but never so drastically that he or Alfred had to intervene.

Damian's jaw tightened. "He deserved worse," he snapped.

Bruce sighed heavily. "Tell you what," he began because how could he fault a brother for defending his sister? "You can go out tonight, provided that you wait for your sister and I."

His son's mouth formed a thin line, but he nodded anyway. "Fine," he agreed begrudgingly. "But I'm going alone tonight." He wouldn't have expected anything less.

OoOoOo

Bruce caught Stephanie and Tim creeping out the latter's window together.

"What do you two think you're doing?" he demanded, crossing his arms. They had all gotten back from patrol just two hours ago. Bruce wanted to slap his forehead; how did they even have the energy to sneak out? If he wasn't annoyed, he might have been amused at the sight of scrawny Tim being assisted by tiny Stephanie out of the window.

"_Shit_!" hissed Steph, nearly dropping the boy in her grasp. She quickly secured her hold on him, giving Bruce a large smile. "Hiya, Bruce!"

"Stephanie!" exclaimed Tim in a panic, flailing his tiny arms around. "Kind of hanging out of a _window_ here!"

"Whoops!" exclaimed the blond. She hoisted the boy back into the room where he landed on the floor with a thud. "Sorry about that, Timmy!" To her credit, she kindly helped him to his feet.

Bruce looked between them both. "Do I want to know what you're up to?" he drawled. Tim was a shy, intelligent boy who never caused him any trouble. Unless, of course, he was with Stephanie. And that happened to be most of the time. The two of them were practically joined at the hip ever since Tim had confronted him and Leta a year ago. Stephanie, ever the mischievous one, despite missing a partner in crime in both Leta and Damian had no problem corrupting poor Tim.

Stephanie gave him a smile that was nothing short of deceptive. "Just a concert," she answered pleasantly.

He raised a doubtful eyebrow. "At three in the morning?"

She put her hands on her hips, cocking her head to the side. And damn it all if she wasn't everything he had wished Leta to be: stubborn and free-spirited and boundlessly confident. It was hard to believe that the young woman in front of him _hadn't_ come from Diana. "Yes, Bruce, at three in the morning," she answered. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that she had grown up in the Narrows. "Don't you know that's when Gotham is _alive_?"

It was also when the criminals came out to play.

Bruce narrowed his eyes at them. "No," he decided.

Steph glared up at him, her pale blue eyes ignited with irritation. "Why not?" she demanded. "We're Batgirl and Robin, what could happen?"

Oh, a lot. He had never shared with either of the children how much of an ordeal it had been to patrol with Leta and Damian. Damian was stubborn and Leta was eager to prove and they both had a knack for finding themselves in the worst situations. Leta had ended up being drugged by Ivy once. She had been dizzy and spouting absolute _nonsense_ for hours. And Damian had somehow managed to fall off the town hall building _on the same night_.

Apparently, they both had been determined to give him multiple heart attacks that day.

Still... Bruce gazed at Tim's hesitant yet obviously disappointed face. Then he looked at Stephanie's annoyed and disheartened expression. Obviously, they had both been looking forward to this night out. Could he truly take that away from them?

Bruce sighed heavily. "Two hours," he allowed. "You have two hours. I want you both back here by five or I'm coming after you myself."

Stephanie beamed and he instantly felt his heart clench. "Oh, thank you, Bruce!" she cheered, launching herself at his chest. It only lasted for a second before she was tugging on Tim's arm.

Tim looked up at him sheepishly and _damn_ if Tim wasn't what he'd wanted for _Damian_ to be. Sharp and observant and shy, but also enthralled with the world and willing to let people in. He felt a pang, thinking about his first son who currently wasn't speaking to him. His son, who shunned and belittled and _loathed_ the boy in front of him. "T-Thank you, Bruce," he murmured.

Bruce managed a smile. "You two should go," he suggested. "Time's running out."

"Oh, you're right," Stephanie exclaimed, pulling Tim out of the room. "Bye, Bruce!" A part of him was concerned but another part of him assured him that he could trust Stephanie. She knew what she was doing and she would never let anything happen to Tim.

That would never stop him from worrying, though.

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**Cass, Dick, and Jason will be in part two! I was stuck for those three, so let's see if I can come up with something in the next part. Leave suggestions if you'd like. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	3. Touching

**Here ya go! Please enjoy!**

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Tim didn't like to be touched. At least, not often.

Even before being abducted and tortured by the Joker, he hadn't liked human contact as much as he should have. Jack and Janet Drake weren't exactly known for physical affection. He supposed that was where the anxiety stemmed from. He usually avoided going out of his way to touch people. Hugs were a rarity, even with Stephanie who was his best friend.

Fortunately, the Wayne's weren't the coddling type anyway. Leta and Bruce never went further than laying a hand on his shoulder. Damian didn't deign to give him the time of day. Cass kept her distance from everyone, so there was no problem with her. Stephanie, of course, was the exception, but even she knew when he needed space.

No, the Wayne's weren't very physical with one another. Well, they weren't the last time he checked.

That was, of course, before Jason and Dick joined the family. Jason with his robust nature and his lack of understanding of personal space. And Dick with his need to be cuddled up to somebody at nearly all times.

Tim almost dropped his coffee when he walked into the library one day, Dick on Leta's lap and Jason's head buried into her side. He was even more shocked to see Dick asleep on Damian's chest in the den one evening after a long patrol. Even more shocking was the man running his fingers through the boy's hair. But Bruce surprised him the most when he allowed both boys to sleep in his bed after a particularly bad nightmare.

It felt as though the manor was being turned upside down. Were these the same Wayne's he had met when he was fourteen? No, he didn't think they were. Perhaps he was in a parallel universe. Yes, that had to be it.

This thought had been concocted by a mix of sleep deprivation and caffeine overload. Still, it was _weird_.

He decided to question Stephanie about it one afternoon. She merely grinned at him. "I think they remind Leta of her mother," she decided. Where she got that idea, he would never know.

Tim tilted his head. "Wonder Woman?" he questioned. Leta never talked about her mother. In fact, he'd had to figure it out on his own who the woman was. "How?"

Stephanie's pale blue eyes twinkled. "Dick's smile is so bright that it lights up the whole manor," she told him resolutely. "He has the same light and positive energy that people, Superman and Flash mostly, said she had. And Jason has boundless confidence and strength, something I'm sure she had. She was Wonder Woman, after all."

He crossed his arms, unconvinced. It was a stretch and even then, it didn't explain everything. "Then what about Damian and Bruce?" he demanded.

She rolled her eyes. "Please, Dick's been Damian's favorite since they had that mission in Italy," she reminded him. "As for Bruce, I think he likes how bright they are." Her smile was suddenly wistful. "It's a nice change from the rest of us. They bring something to the manor that none of us have before."

Tim cocked an eyebrow. "Even you?"

Stephanie shrugged. "I'm more of a tough love kind of girl," she pointed out, a smile spreading across her face. "Jason and Dick are the ones to cuddle up to you after a bad dream or run into your arms for a hug. They're precious."

Vaguely, he wondered when she had gotten so observant.

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"Timmy!"

Tim was unprepared, a week later, when Dick flung himself into his arms. Tim quickly secured him, using the boy's momentum to swing them both around, much to the child's delight. "Dick, _why_?" he demanded, staring down at the boy in bewilderment. In the nine months that they'd had him, Dick hadn't tried for a hug with him. No, that was usually reserved for Stephanie or Jason or Leta. Hell, he even hugged _Bruce_ more.

Dick beamed up at him, his startlingly blue eyes lit up. "Tim, can you take me to the mall?" he questioned, not letting go. He seemed very content in the older boy's arms.

Tim stared down at him. "Why me?" he questioned. There had to be other people he could ask. "Why not Leta or Damian or Steph?"

Dick pouted. "I wanna spend time with you," he said as if it were the most obvious thing on Earth. "We never hang out."

And damn it all, Tim felt a bit bad. He had been at the circus the night Dick's parents fell. Bruce had been going with one of his floozies and Leta had suggested that the two of them tagged along. He had been confused as to why until he recalled that he had told Leta he was a big fan of the Flying Graysons back before the incident.

How she remembered that, he didn't know, but he agreed to go with her. If only for the fact that she was at least trying. It was shortly after his return to the family and even though their relationship hadn't been the best, at least she was _trying_.

That was more than Damian and Bruce had ever done. More than his parents had ever done.

It was ironic because Dick had been the inspiration for Robin. His parents- back before they had made a name for themselves- took him to Haly's Circus whenever it had been in town. He had always been enamored with how carefree and weightless the Flying Graysons had been. And seeing a happy, bubbly, three-year-old Dick had stuck in ten-year-old Tim's mind.

Dick had been his muse, his inspiration. Perhaps, he could stand to spend time with him. Even if the boy was really _touchy_.

He sighed. "Alright, kid," he allowed. "Come on."

Dick cheered, flipping out of Tim's arms and latching onto his hand. "Yay! Thanks, Timmy!" Tim forced himself not to pull his hand away.

OoOoOo

A sigh.

Tim glanced up from his book. Jason was sprawled over the couch in the library, his own book thrown onto the ground. He was huffing, his arms crossed and his eyebrows furrowed. He was watching Tim intently, but once he realized the older boy was watching, glanced away. Tim watched him a moment before shrugging and going back to his book.

Another sigh.

Oh for the love of- Tim snapped his own book shut. "Yes, Jason?"

Jason sat up. "Oh, don't mind me, Timmy," he replied nonchalantly. "Keep reading. Ignore your despondent, disheartened younger brother."

Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. "What's wrong, Jay?" he asked.

Jason huffed dramatically. "Pops grounded me," he revealed. His lips pursed into a pout as he flopped the back of his head onto the couch. "I didn't even do anything wrong! This is injustice, I tell you!"

Tim resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. "You went after Penguin when Bruce told you not to," he pointed out. "And dragged Dick with you. I wouldn't call grounding you for a _week_ injustice."

His younger brother scowled, burying his head into Tim's shoulder. "Timmy~" he whined.

Tim tensed, forcing himself to relax with the contact. It was fine. He was fine. "Jason, if you stop moping, I'll take you to Star City tomorrow," he promised. It was a two-for deal; cheering Jason up and sticking it to Bruce. He would have to hear it later, but it would be worth it.

Jason immediately perked up. "Really?"

"Yes, now stop your complaining."

OoOoOo

It was late one night when Tim came upon Damian and Leta of all people watching a movie. "What the actual hell?" He blinked, wondering if all the nights of skipping sleep were catching up to him. Leta and Damian didn't watch movies. In fact, they didn't do anything normal human beings would do because they were far from human.

At least, mentally.

Leta looked to him and smiled. "Oh, hello, Timothy," she greeted pleasantly. "What are you doing up? We didn't wake you, did we?"

Tim's eyes were still wide as he shook his head. "No, I was already up..." he answered uncertainly. He wasn't used to her mothering him as she did Dick and Jason. "What are you guys watching?"

Damian's eyes didn't move from the screen. "Kung Fu Panda," he answered simply, completely transfixed by said movie.

Tim actually choked on air. "Kung Fu Panda," he repeated. "Are the two of you feeling alright?"

Leta laughed. "I find this film rather enjoyable," she admitted. "And, as you can see, Damian does as well."

Damian rolled his eyes, turning his attention to Tim. "Are you going to gawk all night or join us, Drake?" he snapped, way less harsh than he would have three years prior.

Tim blinked, taken back by the invitation. Had he heard them right? "You want me to watch with you?"

Leta gestured him over. "Of course we do," she assured him. "Come on."

And somehow, the night ended with him falling asleep against her chest and his legs sprawled on Damian's lap.

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**A lot of these will probably be Tim-centric. Idk, he just has a lot of baggage. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	4. Failure

**So, this is more angst than humor... But, like, it's really sad and it makes me depressed. Why did I write it? Who tf knows? Oh, slight spoilers for this chapter as it does contain things Wounded hasn't gotten to yet. But, like, most of it happens in canon, so... I hope you like it!**

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Damian leaving was inevitable.

The fights between him and Father escalated often. Words were exchanged. Names were called. Insults were thrown. Damian was angry. Angry that he was being treated like a child. Angry for being under their father's them. Angry for a multitude of reasons, probably. Reasons that she couldn't even begin to discover because Damian's heart was heavily guarded.

Leta knew their arguments were getting out of hand. They were getting louder, harsher, more dangerously vicious. The manor was becoming tense, as if the house would come down from all the negative energy.

(She didn't say anything when Stephanie would show up at her door when the shouting carried on into the early hours of the morning. Didn't comment when the fifteen-year-old would crawl into her bed, despite being much too old. Didn't hesitate to hold her close when the blond would begin to sob.

Of course, she didn't realize until much later that Stephanie had witnessed similar arguments growing up. Father and Damian would never hurt each other, but that was beside the point.)

But, somehow, Damian announcing his departure had surprised her.

At first, Leta had been confused. Or at least, she told herself she was. How foolish had she been to ignore the signs? To ignore that Damian's eye had been lingering on a certain city named Bludhaven. To tun away from the fact that Father hesitated to make adjustments to her brother's suit as he grew.

Why was he leaving? Weren't they good enough? Father was difficult, yes, but what about them? Were she and Stephanie not enough to make him stay?

She begged and pleaded with Damian to stay with her. This was their family, after all. They were the eldest, they were brother and sister. They shared the bond of blood, forever unbreakable. How could he just leave her? How could he think she could do this without him? But he refused. Vehemently. Told her that she was being foolish, emotional. Told her to pull herself together.

And then, Leta felt anger course through her. Anger that she usually kept buried. Suddenly, she was screaming. She called him an abundance of names: cowardly, unfeeling, and a few unsavory things in Themysciran. Because how dare he? She was the one struggling to keep everything together. What was he doing? Acting like a spoiled brat.

Leta screamed herself hoarse until she couldn't anymore.

Damian fired back at her. They went on for an hour before Alfred finally broke them up (because they both knew better than to disobey Alfred). And then Damian turned and left.

She couldn't make him stay. She couldn't ease his anger. She couldn't make his pain go away. She couldn't be the one he confided in.

She had failed him.

OoOoOo

Leta was hard on Timothy.

Whether she had meant to be or not was still a mystery, even to her. But that didn't stop her from doing it. She'd had the biggest hand in his training since she was the one who insisted that he go through it. Constantly, she would criticize him. Chastise him. Correct him. Nothing he did was ever good enough in her eyes. He always had to be _better_.

Perhaps it was because he was so small. Perhaps it was because Damian left and she couldn't admit that she missed him. Perhaps it was because he didn't take to fighting as well as Stephanie had. Perhaps it was because she was almost reminded of herself, a small child working and fighting to be better because everyone around her was so, _so_ much bigger.

Whatever the reason was, she must have pushed him too far.

Why else would he take the South End alone? Why else would he snoop around Joker territory without letting anyone know?

She'd called Damian. He hadn't picked up.

Two months. Timothy had been in the hands of the Joker for two months when they finally found him. And when they'd found him, he wasn't shy, sweet, brilliant Timothy Drake anymore.

No, he was pale-faced and green-haired. He wasn't that fourteen-year-old boy who'd had the gall to call her and Father out. He wasn't the same boy whose intelligence surpassed even Father. Joker and Harley had taken her Robin, had warped him into nothing less than a monster.

Leta couldn't recall a time when she'd felt more enraged.

If Stephanie and Cassandra hadn't been there, she would have snapped Quinn's neck. Because how dare she? How dare she aid in torturing, twisting her brother? She'd wanted to beat the sense back into the woman and then break the clown in two.

But she had to lead by example. Because she was the oldest. So she didn't. Besides, Timothy was more important.

But of course, Timothy never recovered. Physically, of course, because physical wounds healed. They faded. But mentally? Hera, she hadn't the knowledge to help her poor brother. But someone else had.

Dr. Leslie Thompkins was a gift from Athena herself. She'd known what to do when the rest of them were at a loss. And for a moment, it seemed as though Timothy was getting better.

At least, until Leta had found his bed completely empty one morning.

The failure settled in her throat had been hard to swallow for the rest of the day.

OoOoOo

It was no secret that Stephanie and Timothy had been on the verge of... _something_.

They had always been close, closer than Leta and Damian ever had been. She had been waiting for the day they would get together. But as it seemed, they would never get that chance. Because Tim was Hera-knew-where and Stephanie... Stephanie shut down. She started staying out late. She started drinking and smoking and spending time on the wrong sides of town. She seemed to want to lose herself to numb the pain. Because she had been strong for too long.

And honestly? Leta couldn't blame her.

There were times she wanted to do the same. Times where she wanted to run into Danica's arms and just _hide_ from Gotham. Just wanted to bring the Beyond back together and just pretend that Gotham and Themyscira and all of it wasn't real. To just let them all coddle her like they used to and actually not be the oldest for once.

But of course, she didn't.

They were growing apart. No longer did the admiration shine in Stephanie's eyes when she looked at her. Perhaps that was a good thing. She didn't feel very admirable. Not with Damian hiding in Bludhaven and Timothy just..._ gone_. She wasn't admirable, she was a failure.

But then, that night came. The night she would never forget. The night Stephanie stood in her doorway, looking every bit the eleven-year-old she had met all those years ago.

Instantly, Leta knew something was wrong. Her heart pounded in her chest because _something was wrong_. Then her gaze settled on the little plastic stick in Stephanie's hands and she knew.

(She had held Stephanie close that night, promising that everything would be alright. Because really, what else could she do? Themyscira hadn't prepared her for this.)

A month into the pregnancy, she had taken Stephanie to one of the Wayne Properties in Italy. They had hidden there, under the guise that they were on a mission from Artemis. The redhead was all too glad to cover for her. It was there that she'd had her baby. It was there that Leta had laid eyes on the most innocent, precious thing she'd ever seen.

The birth had taken a lot out of Stephanie, so Leta had held the child as she slept. She had looked into the infant's soft, round face and felt something in her heart burst.

Damn it all, she wanted Stephanie to keep the baby. She wanted a tiny child filled with light running around the dark corridors of Wayne Manor. She wanted a baby who looked up to her, called her Auntie, and trusted her with anything and everything.

She wanted to love this child.

But Stephanie wasn't ready (just a baby herself). And Father wasn't ready. And _she_ wasn't ready. How could she be so selfish as to want to bring a baby into this? The child deserved her best chance and it wasn't with them. It never would be.

When Stephanie awoke, she calmly asked if she was ready to go.

(This failure stung, plaguing her mind with what-ifs and maybes that would never come to fruition.)

OoOoOo

Cassandra was remarkable in so many ways.

Unfortunately, she had been born to evil people. A girl with a heart so big should never have had to be within two feet of the League of Assassins. Thinking about David Cane made Leta want to run a dagger through his throat. Though, she could have been projecting. No, she definitely was if her slip-up around her father was any indication.

Leta made it her mission to shield the girl as best she could. Of course, it was hard to shield a person who could literally read emotions like words. That didn't stop her from trying.

And yes, she saw a lot of herself in Cassandra. The young woman was dangerous, but gentle and kind. She valued life above all, something that had resisted David Cane's teachings. Something that Leta was so, so proud of her for.

She wanted nothing more than to wrap Cassandra up in affection and warmth and keep her safe. She wanted nothing more than to be there for her, wherever and whenever she needed her.

So imagine her surprise when the young woman- the girl who had been raised as a weapon to _kill_\- came up to her one particularly bad night (a week after Danica's death, thinking too much about Timothy and Mother and Themyscira) with a hug. Leta was stunned, but soon found herself hugging her back and sobbing into her shoulder.

(Something she had only ever done in front of Rex.)

"You do good," Cassandra had told her in her simple English. Because really, who needed words? Certainly not Cassandra Cain, who was nothing short of amazing. "We love you. No doubts."

And Leta continued to cry like an infant. She cried for Damian and Timothy and Stephanie's baby and her mother and, Tartarus, if she didn't cry for Cassandra. Leta was supposed to be the older one, not her. She would never go through as much as Cassandra had in her life and yet the Asian woman was comforting her.

This, somehow, was the worst failure yet.

OoOoOo

And then there was Father.

Father, who had saved her from her grandmother's clutches. Father, who had brought her home and showered her with love. Father, who had given her everything she asked for. Father, whose side she has stuck by for nearly twenty years. Father, whose orders she had followed without question for the majority of her life. Father who she loved and adored with everything she had.

Father, who was gone now.

She had been with him that night, along with Cassandra. They had been investigating strange activity by the West Side, League of Assassin activity. The fight had been brutal, but they were managing to win. If only barely.

But then the warehouse had blown up.

Next thing she knew, Father had shoved her and Cassandra out of the nearest window, the younger girl unconscious. She watched as the building went up in flames, too stunned to start flying.

She had slammed into the water, the ice-cold surface shocking her to her core. And suddenly, her reality came crashing around her. The picture in front of her seemed to settle in place as she connected the dots in her head.

Father was gone. But she couldn't dwell on that, not right now. Perhaps in the safety of her room could she properly mourn him. But not right now because she had things to do.

Quickly, Leta looped an arm around Cassandra before she could sink, dragging the woman to shore. The grief settled in as she performed CPR on her little sister, but she refused to focus on it. For now, her objective was getting Cassandra home safe and sound.

Her heart felt heavy as she did so, even when Cassandra opened her eyes. Heavier than it ever had. Because she hadn't just failed Father. She had failed Cassandra too.

And Damian. And Stephanie. And Timothy. And Jason and Richard and- _oh Hera_.

Jason and Richard. This would destroy them.

In the end, Hippolyta had been right. She was nothing compared to her mother. Because Diana of Themyscira was not a failure. But that was what Leta was and always would be.

A failure.

OoOoOo

**This turned out a lot shorter than I thought it would. I wrote this to give y'all insight into Leta and how she deals with the many misfortunes of her family as the oldest. I actually got a little emotional. Anyway, I hope you like it and please review!**


	5. Oh, Stephanie (Dialect Only)

**So, this is just something that popped into my head. But really, when doesn't Stephanie say what's on her mind? Anyway, please enjoy!**

OoOoOo

"Le."

"Yes, Stephanie?"

"You're hot."

...

"Thank you...?"

"You shouldn't be _here_! There are plenty of guys that wanna get in your pants-"

"Stephanie Brown!"

"-so tell me why you're here on a Saturday night! You fucking nerd."

"We have patrol soon."

"Leta."

"Yes?"

"Get laid, then fucking talk to me about patrol."

OoOoOo

"Damian?"

"What, Brown?"

"Stop being such an asshole."

"Is that all?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much it."

"You're an ingrate."

"And you're a jackass, but you don't see me complaining."

OoOoOo

"B?"

"Stephanie?"

"You're hella frustrating to be around sometimes. You know that?"

...

"Thanks, Steph."

"Anytime, B."

OoOoOo

"Hey, Timmy, guess what?"

"What?"

"You're tiny."

"Really, Steph?"

"And smol~"

"One, that's not a word. Two, if it was, it would mean the same thing."

"So then which is it? Because it can't not be a word and also mean the same thing as something else. That don't make sense."

"Are you drunk?"

"Nooooo... Just buzzed."

"I'll telling Bruce."

"Hmph. Meanie."

"Steph?"

"Yes?"

"Go to bed."

"Fuck you too then, Timbo."

OoOoOo

"Cass, you're a fucking badass."

"Yes."

"Like, you're the baddest bitch."

"Yes."

"You literally made that guy piss himself with a look."

"Yes."

"Cass?"

"Yes?"

"I fucking love you."

"I know."

OoOoOo

"Al, have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?"

"Not very often, Miss Stephanie."

"Then I'm a fucking idiot."

"Language, Miss Stephanie."

"Sorry, Al. But it's true cause you're the best."

"Thank you, Miss Stephanie."

"Where would B be without you?"

"I try not to think of it."

"Yeah, that's pretty fucking scary."

"Language, Miss Stephanie."

OoOoOo

**I think the part with Alfred's my favorite. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	6. Mother's Day

**Yes, I KNOW this is late! Do I care? Nooooo... Just read, okay? And please enjoy!**

OoOoOo

Mother's Day was always a somber event in the Wayne household.

Leta always left early in the morning, taking the Zeta Beam to Gateway City. She would visit Artemis' apartment and the two of them would reminisce. She would ask Artemis for stories, stories she had heard a million times before but would sit through anyway. They only helped her feel that much closer to her mother. And of course, the proud redhead was all too happy to share them.

From there, the two of them would visit her memorial on the Watchtower. No one ever questioned Leta's presence. If they tried, Aunt Shayera was warning them off before they got the chance. Artemis would stay with her for a while before leaving her to her own devices.

She would stare at the fierce, passionate face of Diana of Themyscira for hours.

And then Leta would babble. She would talk about her father and her siblings and how much happier they would be with her there. She would talk about Danica and Rex and how much she cared for them both. Sometimes, she would just talk about random, insignificant things. Things she was sure her mother would be happy to hear. Mother, she knew, would have talked back with enthusiasm and given her advice when she was lost.

But, as every year, Leta received no reply. She would then bid her mother goodbye, wishing her happiness from her place in the Elysian Fields.

OoOoOo

Damian was always angry on Mother's Day.

The rest of the house knew to stay away from him on that day. He would go down to the Cave and train for hours upon hours. He would train until his muscles ached and his callouses bled. Why would he do this? Because that was what Talia had expected. She would push him, punish him, degrade him. He had never been good enough, not for her.

He had been her little soldier. Her means to an end. Damian couldn't forgive that. Not when he now knew how a parent was supposed to act. Father may have been far from perfect, but he hadn't raised him to be a machine. He hadn't forced him to climb a mountain with a broken wrist. He hadn't raised him like a pig for slaughter.

When Damian finally collapsed after three hours of exhausting himself, he punched the steel floor of the Cave. Mothers, he now knew, were supposed to put you first. They were supposed to love and nourish you. The only one who had done that was Alfred (and Leta, when she wasn't battling her own demons).

And perhaps he could have forgiven that a long time ago. Perhaps he could have told himself that Talia was corrupted by his grandfather. But then Grandfather was gone, and she had targeted his family.

Talia wasn't his mother. She hadn't been in a long time.

OoOoOo

Stephanie's feelings on Mother's Day were complicated.

Crystal Brown, she knew, had tried. She had tried to battle addiction. But having an ex-con in jail for a husband and struggling with piling bills took a lot out of one woman. Stephanie learned this at a young age. She knew that she would have to take on a lot by herself. She spent a lot of time out of the house, unable to breathe in the crappy, sorrowful apartment. It had come to the point where she would go weeks without seeing her mother.

They had become so distant with one another, that Mom's death hadn't affected her as much as it probably should have. She had felt guilty about that, but hadn't allowed herself to dwell on it. Besides, she had her outlet for grief. She was Batgirl and Batgirl didn't have time to cry and mourn a person she had hardly known.

Neither could she cry over the child she had given up.

She would ignore this day most years. She would wander around the Manor, entertaining herself idly. But sometimes, when she was feeling nostalgic, she would take a little trip to the Narrows where Mom was buried. She would bring flowers. She would talk, though she wouldn't say much. Nothing important, anyway.

She was still trying to figure out if her mother was worth the important things.

OoOoOo

Janet Drake hadn't seen a purpose in Mother's Day.

Tim rolled his eyes, recalling one year when he'd brought her a homemade card from school. She had looked at it in confusion, in cold puzzlement. "Timothy, do not present me with such an impractical offering," she had stated, raising a flawless eyebrow. "This day is pointless and Drake's do not have time for pointlessness. Understand?"

He hadn't gotten her another gift after that year.

On this day, he never bothered to visit her grave. She would have told him that she was gone, so there was no point. It wasn't as though it would bring her back. In fact, he could be doing something more productive.

Damn her.

On this day, Tim would simply go on about his business. Janet Drake, he had decided a long time ago, wasn't worth wasting tears or energy on. She lay in the past and was one thing that should stay there.

Thinking about her for too long often resulted in other memories coming forth. He would rather leave Joker Junior in the past as well.

OoOoO

Cass, shortly after Leta left, would go on her own excursion.

She waited in downtown Gotham, on one of the tallest rooftops. She stood, perched as she watched over her city. Always, her eyes would land on the Manor. She would wait, pondering the outcome of today. At times, she would fear her demise. Others, she didn't bother. Because nothing would stop her from returning to her family.

Not even _her_.

As it was every year, she would catch a throwing star aimed at her head. Cass would turn, and there she would be. Lady Shiva, one of the deadliest warriors to ever live. Her mother.

Shiva would nod. "Cassandra," she would greet. She was never one for pleasantries, not even for her own daughter.

Cass would nod back. "Shiva," she would reply. Because this woman may have given birth to her, but she hadn't earned the title of Mother. Only one person even came close to that and it wasn't Shiva. It never would be.

Shiva would draw her blade. "Are you ready?" she would demand.

And Cass would simply draw her own. She would not speak because the time for talk was over. Now it was time to fight. To earn her place in her current life. She would stay with her family.

No matter what it took.

OoOoOo

Jason had loved Catherine Todd.

Yes, she'd had her faults. And yes, she had been in and out of rehab for the majority of his life. But she had been there, at least some of the time. He remembered how she would hold him late at night and call him her baby. When Dad was drunk beyond belief and raging, they would hide in his room and hold onto each other. She would whisper reassurances in his ear and he would nestle himself into his neck.

No, Catherine hadn't been perfect. But there was no doubt that she loved him. And he had loved her.

Leta was the only person he had ever told this. When she would return, he would approach her wordlessly. And without hesitation, she would scoop him into her arms- never mind the fact that he came up to her shoulder- and carry him to her car. Any other day, he would protest. But not that day. They would drive to the cemetery without talking.

The two of them would get out of the car and approach Ma's grave. Leta would stay back, giving him space. He appreciated this every year. He loved Leta, but there were some things he had to keep to himself, even from her.

Jason wouldn't talk to Ma. Because there was no point. Whatever he could tell her, he was sure she already knew. So he would kneel down, place flowers on her headstone, and just sit there.

And then, eventually, he would head back to Leta. He would look up at her, every year, and ask, "Does it ever get easier, Le?"

And every year, Leta would grimace. "I've never lied to you, Little Sun," she would begin. And it was true, she never lied. "And I won't start now. No, it does not."

And Jason would nod, taking her hand and squeezing it. Because he knew she needed this just as much. She would smile down at him and squeeze back.

OoOoOo

On Mother's Day, Dick would write to his mother.

It was never anything special. Just ramblings and snippets. He liked to think that Mary Grayson would have liked to hear it. She had liked to hear him talk. The two of them used to be able to go on for hours. It wasn't exactly the same here but Stephanie would try her best and Damian allowed him to talk to his heart's content. Of course, he didn't really talk back, but that was beside the point.

Before their deaths, his family hadn't really celebrated Mother's Day. They had been on the road too much that most of the time, they weren't sure what day it was. But he felt as though it was important to let Mami know how much he loved and missed her.

And so Dick would write in his messy handwriting. Romani was fading from his mind over the years, but he would do his best. He hoped it was good enough for Mami.

Then, hours later, Damian would appear at his door. Dick would smile at him, putting away his journal and gesturing for him to come over. Damian would do so slowly, sitting down on the bed with him.

Without hesitation, Dick would wrap his arms around him. He knew Damian's mom wasn't nice and she was one of the reasons he struggled so much. Dick didn't like Damian's mom and would call her names in Romani under his breath. Leta understood and glanced at him, but never said anything. In fact, he swore he could see the corners of her lips twitch.

"Dami?"

"Richard."

Dick would tighten his hold on him. "I love you." He never expected his older brother to say it back, he almost never did. Damian, he knew, wasn't one for affection.

But occasionally, he would be surprised. "I love you as well, Richard."

OoOoOo

Bruce knew Mother's Day was a hard day for his kids. From Leta to Dick, none of them would be in a particularly cheerful mood. And he could understand that because it wasn't for him either. Mothers, in general, were a tough subject for all of them. Diana, Mary, Catherine, Crystal, and Janet were gone and though Shiva and Talia may have been alive, they weren't prime examples.

So Bruce would wait for them in the living room. Each year would start like this. Each of them would process in their own ways, some of them with one another and some of them by themselves. Either way, each day would end the same.

Leta would emerge first. Her eyes shone with sadness as she took her seat next to him. This family had started out with just the two of them and a part of him was glad she was always first. Sometimes, he could pretend that she was his baby again and still needed him.

But truthfully, she hadn't needed him for a very long time.

Still, Leta would lace her fingers with his and gently squeeze his hand. And he would squeeze back because they were mourning the same person at that moment. Diana had been an irreplaceable light in their lives that they would never get back. Though, he would be lying if he said he didn't see her every day in his daughter.

Then would come Damian. He would also take a seat, but it would be much farther than his sister. Still, Bruce would lay a hand on his shoulder and his son wouldn't pull away. Because Damian needed the support. No matter their differences, that was still his son. And he knew that, no matter how Damian may pretend, this day wasn't any easier for him as it was the rest of them.

Talia had hurt him.

Stephanie would be next. His strong, second daughter. She would plop herself on the floor and lean against Leta's leg. Leta, in turn, would run her hand through Stephanie's long, golden hair. She would pretend that this day didn't bother her, but Bruce knew better. Because Stephanie's mother had confused her and hurt her and left her with so many emotions.

But of course, she would never admit that.

Tim would come after her. He sat away from everyone on the arm of the couch. It saddened Bruce, how disconnected his second son was with everybody. But he was ever so grateful that he was here with them. For a long time, that hadn't seemed possible. And yet, here he was and Bruce was so, so proud. Because it could have been worse. Much worse.

He could have ended up as cold as Janet Drake.

Cass would then creep in silently, seating herself next to Stephanie and between Leta and Damian's legs. Stephanie would squeeze her should affectionately and Cass would give a curt nod. Bruce would take note of the small injuries most would miss; a cut on the cheek, a bruise on the shoulder, etc. Of course, he had eyes on the fight. He always did.

Shiva would not take his third daughter.

After her, Jason would bound in and plop next to Leta. She, in turn, would wrap an arm around him. Bruce had a myriad of feelings about Catherine Todd, but he knew Jason loved her. And Leta knew Jason loved her. And really, that was all that mattered. He was glad for the fact that his oldest and second-youngest had one another to rely on.

And then, of course, would come Dick. His smallest child would walk in uncharacteristically slow before settling on Damian's lap. Damian would immediately wrap his arms around him. It warmed his heart to see Damian care for someone so fully. No one, not even Leta, had been able to completely thaw his heart. Though, he supposed that was to be expected.

Dick had learned well from Mary Grayson.

And when everyone had arrived, the eight of them would just sit in silence for a while. Eventually, Alfred would come in with tea and send remind them when it was time for patrol.

OoOoOo

**Talia and Janet: We're good mothers right?  
Catherine and Cystal: *nervous sweating*  
Shiva: *sips coffee*  
Mary: *laughs in Romani*  
****Diana: *laughs in Greek***

**I'm sorry, I had to! Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	7. Bra Shopping

**Needed to take a break from the angst train. But don't worry, more is coming. Please enjoy!**

OoOoOo

"_Damian_."

Damian sighed, lowering his book. Why had they allowed the blond menace into their home? Oh yes, he remembered; his sister was fond of her. What she saw in the girl he would never know. "What do you want, Brown?" he snapped. The child was irritatingly confident and unaffected by him, much to his dismay. Nothing he did could scare her off.

Not even his repeated threats to shove her off of the manor's roof.

Though, much to his surprise, Brown was looking down at her shoes. Odd, he'd never known the girl to meet him with anything but confidence. Her behavior indicated that something was off. "Uh..."

He raised an impatient eyebrow. "Out with it, Fatgirl," he remarked crudely. Not that the blond was overweight by any means, but the name had stuck after a particularly underhanded squabble between them.

That snapped Brown out of whatever daze she was in. "Oh, screw you, Demon!" she snapped back. "I actually need your help, you ass, but if you're going to be a dick about it-!"

"If it is my help you require, I would refrain from name-calling," Damian cut in. Perhaps he should have been kinder to the girl, she was a child after all, but he couldn't find it within himself to care. He couldn't see what, exactly, she brought to their mission. She was stubborn, argumentative, and the only one she really listened to was Leta (and Pennyworth, of course, but that was a given). Not to mention that her combat skills, while improving, were subpar and her detective skills were even worse.

What was her purpose in this house? His sister never did things without reason, so why bring this ingrate into the fold?

Brown clamped her mouth shut, but her pale blue eyes still shot daggers at him. "I need you to bring me into the city," she replied through clenched teeth.

He regarded her. "You will have to be more specific, Brown."

Her lip curled with frustration. She seemed to want to walk away from him like she usually would, but something kept her in place. "I need you to take me bra shopping," she clarified slowly.

Damian blinked, thoroughly cut off guard. "Absolutely not," he answered curtly. Of all the people in this manor, she wanted _him _to take her shopping for undergarments? Now he was convinced that she had no place defending Gotham if she was that dense. As if he would ever-!

Brown let out a cry of irritation. "I know this it's fucking awkward!" she snapped. "Trust me, Demon, you're the last person I would ever want to take me! But Leta is with Danica and Alfred's out buying groceries. Hell, I'd even take Bruce, but he's in a fucking meeting! Today of all days! Like, what the fuck is this where everyone happens to be out?"

He rubbed his temples. "Must it be today?" he groused out. It wasn't as though Brown had anything to show for, certainly it could wait until someone- preferably Leta- returned.

She glared at him. "You think I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important?" she retorted. "I'm going out with friends later, not that you would understand, and I'm damn thirteen, Damian! I need bras!"

Every part of Damian wanted to say not. To tell her to stop pestering him and wait for Leta or Pennyworth or Father to return. But, unfortunately, he knew Brown. She wouldn't stop until he agreed, that was just the kind of person she was. Stubborn, insolent fool.

"Fine," he finally hissed, slamming his book on the coffee table. "Put your shoes on, Brown. If you're not in the car in two minutes, we're not going."

"Fine!" she mimicked, already going to collect her shoes. "Asshole!"

It would be a miracle if he didn't end up stabbing that child.

OoOoOo

This had to be the most humiliating experience in Damian's sixteen-year-old life.

Heat crept onto his cheeks as he and Brown strolled the endless isles of woman's undergarment. Why, why did he have to be the one to do this? Damn Leta for canoodling with the Speedster. He had half a mind to tell Father about their 'secret' relationship. Of course, he doubted it would do anything as Williams was unafraid of Father for whatever reason. Still, it would serve her right to be embarrassed.

Then, perhaps, she would get a semblance of what he was enduring at this moment.

Brown glowered at him. "Oh, fix your face," she snapped. "It's not like I wanna be seen here with _you_. I swear to god if the paparazzi show up right now..."

Damian glared back, making sure to keep his eyes off the feminine product. "Do not jinx it, Brown." He, of course, didn't believe in such superstition, but one couldn't take a chance with Gotham's paparazzi. They were vultures, plain and simple.

But of course, Father would say that disembowelment wasn't the answer. Father was a fool.

"Just make this quick, Brown," he growled. "I've no interest in being here all day."

She rolled her eyes. "That makes two of his, D," she shot back.

Damian scrubbed his face, internally cursing his sister, Williams, and Father. He didn't dare curse Pennyworth, for he seemed to have a second sense about these things. And today, he didn't want to risk it.

OoOoOo

Hours later, they returned to the Manor. Damian's mood was soured by the fact that both Father and Leta were in the den, viewing the television as if he _hadn't_ just gone through the hell of his life. Leta blinked as they entered, confusion evident on her face. "Where were the two of you?" she inquired softly. "You've been gone for hours."

Damian simply stalked past her. "Don't you have a Speedster to entertain?" he snapped at her. Because damn her, he had to suffer because _she_ couldn't contain her urges.

He felt Leta bristle at the comment; Williams- and Stewart for that matter- was always a forbidden subject. She cursed at him in Themysciran, much to Father's protest.

"Steph?" he heard Father ask as he headed up to his room.

Brown grunted in annoyance. "Bonding," she answered dryly.

OoOoOo

Months later, an exaggerated screech was heard from the bathroom in Stephanie's room. She really was a harpy, wasn't she? Leta, who was next to him, turned concerned eyes in that direction. "Stephanie?" she called worriedly. She had a habit of doing that, of mothering. He'd told her to cease this countless times. "Are you alright?"

Silence. Then, "I HAVE MY GODDAMNED PERIOD!"

Without hesitation, Damian stood and walked out of the kitchen. "I believe that's your department, sister." He would not be going through that again.

OoOoOo

**I absolutely LOVE writing Damian and Stephanie together. They are so fun! Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	8. Wedding Woes

**Will I ever stop spoiling my own series? Of course not. ANYWAY! It's not really a spoiler, just a glimpse of the future. Please enjoy!**

OoOoOo

"What about this one, Le?"

Leta looked over at the suggested dress, then grimaced. "I'm not sure, sister," she replied, taking note of the right-leg slit and plunging neckline. "Is it not a bit... risque?"

Stephanie huffed, crossing her arms. "Oh, come on!" she complained. "This is your wedding, not your goddamn communion!" She waved the magazine dramatically for emphasis, her pale blue eyes alight with irritation. "It's not like your a shy woman either. Why _not_ wear something totally sexy that'll make Rex want to jump you at the alter?"

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. "That will happen anyway," she commented.

Leta felt heat rush to her cheeks. "Rex is not going to 'jump me' at the alter," she hissed, embarrassed. Hera, she hated talking of these things with her younger sisters. She was a private woman, especially when it came to her love- and sex- life.

Stephanie snickered. "No, he has too much self-control to do that in front of Bruce," she agreed. "But once you're alone?" She waved dramatically. "Bye-bye wedding dress. Come to think of it, does it really matter which one we pick? It'll just end up torn." The blond swiftly dodged a swipe aimed at her head.

If possible, Leta's cheeks grew darker. "Oh, be quiet, Stephanie," she snapped. Though, perhaps her words did hold some merit. When the two of them were alone, Rex was a passionate man. She thought about their activities just the night prior, her body suddenly reignited with desire. Very passionate indeed...

Cassandra made a face. "Ew," she remarked, but the corners of her mouth twitched. She began sifting through the old magazines, expertly selecting one from the vast pile. "Look in this one."

Leta had learned a long time ago to trust her younger sister's intuition and took the book. "Hmm..." she hummed, thumbing through the pages. There were a lot of pretty ones in this one. Elegant, but not too extravagant. Seemed to be what she was aiming for. Finally, her eyes settled on page twenty-two, emotion suddenly overcoming her. "Oh..."

Stephanie looked over her shoulder. "What?" she questioned. "What is it?"

The Amazon lightly ran her finger over a beautiful white, strapless gown with lace that flared slightly from the waist. "My..." she began, her voice trembling. She cleared her throat. "I think my mother had been eyeing this one..."

Come to think of it, this wasn't her first time looking through bridal magazines, was it? Before her abduction to Themyscira, her mother and father had been engaged. When they had actually planned to get married, she had no clue to this day. But this dress... her mother had liked it.

She remembered sitting on her mother's lap as they looked through wedding dresses. When talking about the wedding, her father had asked her input for decorations. She may have only been four at the time, but they had wanted her opinion for their special day.

Hera, if there was anything that would make her wedding perfect, it was her mother's presence. There had been many moments throughout her life when she'd needed the woman, but this had to be the most important. She rued the fact that she couldn't spend this special occasion with her mother.

Cassandra squeezed her shoulder. "Pretty," she said softly, brushing back her older sister's hair.

Leta struggled to keep her tears at bay. "Yes," she agreed. "It is very beautiful, isn't it?"

Stephanie kissed her on the cheek. "Is this the one you want?" she asked lowly. "Should I ask Alfred to call the tailor?"

She thought about this. The dress would have looked gorgeous on her mother, but Leta wasn't sure if it was a good fit for her. She had never liked gowns, she found they were hard to walk in. And, well, she was unsure of how her bust would look in it (the only insecurity she'd ever had about her body was her chest, it was much too large).

Leta averted her eyes. "I... I do not think it's for me," she finally admitted.

Cassandra hummed, taking the magazine from her hand. She flipped a few pages before stopping suddenly. "This one," she suggested.

Leta looked at the dress. It had lace sleeves and a fitting bodice. The skirt was in a gorgeous mermaid cut, elegantly pooling onto the floor. She stared at it for a while, imagining herself wearing this dress. She imagined walking down the isle her father beside her and Rex waiting for her. She imagined Rex's green eyes, full of love and adoration for her, as they always were.

She imagined being in this dress as she bound herself to the soulmate she'd had since she was two months old.

This dress... was perfect.

A brilliant smile forced its way onto her face. "It's perfect," she whispered.

OoOoOo

**Steph and Cass are the best sisters. Change my mind. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	9. Father's Day

**I'm never not gonna be late, am I? Ugh, please enjoy this Father's Day fic a week later!**

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Father's Day was different.

Bruce would never admit it to anyone, but it was one of his favorite days of the year. A day wholly dedicated to him spending time with his kids. They may have driven him up the walls with every chance they got, but he wouldn't have had it any other way. He took the entire day off from Wayne Enterprises just to spend it with them. There was nothing more perfect to him than a day alone with his children.

This particular Father's Day was special to him. It was his third one after being alive again and if he had learned anything it was that he had to appreciate his children. His time ripped away from them had been pure agony. He didn't want to waste a single second he didn't need to.

He had just gotten up when he heard the delightful sounds echoing from the kitchen.

"Dammit, Leta, that is not how you produce an omelet!"

"Would you stop? I know what I'm doing!"

The corners of Bruce's lips twitched at the sound of his two oldest squabbling. In the past, the two had seen Father's Day as a sort of competition. It was almost as though they had been trying to prove who loved him the most. Usually, Leta wouldn't have indulged her brother's instigating. But her love and devotion to him was something she took seriously.

Very seriously.

He chortled, recalling one year when Damian had dared to imply that he was the more devoted child. Leta hadn't spoken to him for two weeks, something he hadn't been used to at the time. He had learned never to cross that line again.

"I'm surprised Alfred hasn't banned the two of you from his kitchen," deadpanned Stephanie as he drew closer.

Ah, Stephanie. It was no secret that Bruce had a soft spot for the maddening, rambunctious, wonderful blond. She had brought light to the manor, light that he hadn't had for a very long time. Leta had begun to smile more and even Damian's rough exterior had softened a bit (he pitied the fools who had dared messed with Steph with those two around). Stephanie had brought them closer, had pulled them out of themselves when need be.

She also said whatever was on her mind, no matter what.

He heard Tim scoff. "You think Alfred can tell Leta no?" he replied dryly.

Bruce chuckled. It was no secret that his eldest held a special place in Alfred's heart. She was the first granddaughter, the first ray of light to come into their dark world. The only one who contended with that spot was Jason, not that Leta minded. He held a place in her heart as well.

He could practically hear Leta frown. "I don't like what you're implying," came her sharp response.

He grimaced slightly. Everyone's relationship with Tim was strained, but no one's more than Leta's. It had taken her a long time to warm up to him. And even when she had, she had pushed him every day and he still hadn't been good enough. This was part of his anger toward her when he had returned.

But Leta was stubborn and had worked her way through back to his heart. Still, he knew that it still lingered in Tim's head. He had come so far, but some things could never be fixed. He wished so much that he could go back in time and do things differently. Maybe take over his training sooner, maybe rescue him earlier. Maybe then he would have that curious, bright-eyed boy back.

Of course, that wouldn't be possible. He had to live with his mistakes.

Still, the fact that Tim was even here was a very good sign.

Luckily, the tension in the room was alleviated. "Oh, please Le," huffed Jason. "If you burned the place down, Al would pat your shoulder and make Pops pay for it."

A grin forced itself onto Bruce's face. If there was one thing Leta and Tim could agree on, it was their love for Jason. They were both close to the boy, albeit in different ways. And plus, Jason did have a way of making people pull their heads out of their asses. When they were wallowing in grief over Tim, Jason came out of nowhere and got them back on track.

Hell, he'd managed to convince Damian to come home from Bludhaven. Even better, he'd been the one to reach out to Tim. Two nearly impossible feats that no one had ever managed.

Bruce was relieved to hear his eldest chortle. "I suppose you're right, Little Sun," she allowed. Her tone soon turned commanding. "Stop eating the chocolate chips this instant, Richard!"

He imagined Dick was pouting. "But they're _so_ good," he replied cheekily. "You know, have I ever told you how much I love your cooking?" He was probably flashing that bright, overly persuasive smile of his that had worked exceedingly well on Leta ever since he was nine.

"Richard, cease your thievery at once. And lying is not becoming of you. Not even Titus favors Leta's cooking."

Though, not so well on Damian. A string of Themysciran curses flew from Leta's mouth. And, well, Bruce had spent enough time with Diana on missions to recognize some of the dialect.

"Hmph. You guys are so not whelmed."

A splat was heard. "Butcher the English language one more time, brat," dared Jason. Presumably, he had thrown pancake batter at the boy.

"Jason Peter Todd-Wayne!" chorused Damian and Leta together in outrage. If he didn't know any better, he'd think they were the parents. Though, to be fair, he owed a lot to them both, especially after his supposed death. They'd gotten used to running the house together, he supposed.

Was he even really needed?

Steph's exuberant voice cut through his brooding. "Hell yeah! Food fight!" And that was when the chaos emerged.

"Brown, do not come near me with-!"

"Aw, what the hell, Jay?"

"Richard, I will ban Wallace from this house-!"

Bruce shook his head fondly. Yes, his children were a handful, but he wouldn't have had it any other way. They were chaotic and disobedient and maddening and perfect.

Light footsteps were heard as Cass appeared beside him. "Happy Father's Day," she said softly. She gently ran her hand over his cheek, then leaned up to give him a light peck.

He smiled, taking in his dangerous, compassionate, and loving youngest daughter. "Thank you, honey," he replied. Leta had once compared the girl to Persephone, goddess of springtime. He couldn't help but think that she had been right. Cass's kindness shone through, even past her father's murderous training. She was probably the best fighter among them, but she was also in the running for the biggest heart, right after Dick.

"Should we dare to go in there?" he teased.

Cass grinned. "Can't avoid," she replied back, a twinkle in her eye.

They entered the kitchen and it was just as expected. There wasn't one inch of the room that wasn't covered in pancake batter. Leta and Damian, both armed with a pack of eggs, looked ready to hurl it at Jason and Stephanie. The two, in kind, had handfuls of pancake batter. Dick was using the distraction to sneak chocolate chips, unaware that Tim was looming behind with flour.

Bruce cleared his throat just as Tim dropped flour on Dick and everyone froze. Cass smiled at her siblings before taking her seat at the counter. She plucked a chocolate chip from Stephanie's hair and thumbed off a smudge of egg off Tim's cheek.

He chuckled. "So, who wants to clean up this kitchen before Alfred wakes up?"

Everyone immediately jumped into action and a grin found its way onto his face. This was always his favorite part. After the inevitable disaster breakfast attempt, they would all hurriedly get to making the kitchen perfect for when his own surrogate father woke up.

Eyeing the ring on his eldest's finger, he couldn't help but think that this would be one of their last altogether. After all, the wedding wasn't too far away. And though he had given Rex his blessing (the man had been taking care of her since they were three, how could he have said no?), he still wasn't sure if he was ready to let his baby girl go.

She had been by his side for over twenty years, longer than anyone bar Alfred. And now he had to give her away. Dammit, he thought he would have been more ready for this.

Leta caught his eyes and strode over to him, a contemplative look on her face. "Happy Father's Day," she said, kissing his cheek much like Cass had.

Though she was as tall as Diana had been, Bruce still had her by a few inches and was able to kiss the top of her head. "Breakfast the same as every year?" he teased.

She flicked a chocolate chip from her shoulder. "Always," she promised. Her eyes gleamed as she said this, as if there was another meaning to her words.

He had an idea of what it was.

Leta took his hand, leading him over to the chaos. Currently, Tim and Damian were arguing about which cleaner was better to use. "Terrance said he would be over later," she told him idly. That was... odd. Despite their shared genetics, Terry was adamant that Warren McGinnis was and always would be his father. And really, he couldn't fault him for that.

Though, every part of him wished that Terry had been with them from the beginning. Neither Leta nor Damian had ever had an older brother. And, well, it would have been nice if Leta could have relied on someone when she'd felt she couldn't on him. No doubt, the two would have been close.

He cursed Waller every day.

Bruce nodded. "Leta?"

She glanced up at him, sapphire eyes alight with curiosity. "Yes, Father?"

He kissed the back of her hand. "I love you." He didn't tell her that often enough. Really, he didn't tell any of them often enough. Maybe if he did, his relationship with Damian wouldn't be so strained. Maybe Stephanie wouldn't feel so alone. Maybe Cass would open up more. Maybe Jason and Dick wouldn't have to lighten things up. Maybe Leta would know that she was enough.

Maybe Tim would be his happy boy again.

But Leta beamed at him and, for a second, she was six years old again. "I love you too." She gestured to her siblings. "We all do."

Yes, Bruce loved Father's Day. It was the one day a year where he found himself with a little more emotional courage. It was the one day a year where he found himself able to plainly tell his children how he felt.

It was the one day a year where Batman completely took the backseat to Bruce Wayne.

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**Before I forget this, because I manage it every time, I primarily do not ship when it comes to the Batfam. Only Bruce and Diana, but that's really a given. So, I'm going to let you guys weigh in on who each member should be with. Be aware that Leta's love life has already been decided, but everyone else is open!**

**Damian: Colin Wilkes/Jonathan Kent/Raven/Iris West II  
****Stephanie: Tim/Cissie King-Jones/Open Suggestions  
****Tim: Conner Kent/Cassandra Sandsmark/Conner Kent+Cassandra Sandsmark/Stephanie  
****Cass: Open Suggestions  
****Jason: Roy Harper/Roy Harper+Koriand'r/Donna Troy  
****Dick Grayson: Barbara Gordon/Koriand'r/Zatanna Zatara/Donna Troy/Wally West**

**If you have suggestions for characters that aren't listed, please let me know! Also, please know that asexuality is an option for every character as well! Personally, I am leaning towards Asexual Cass, but that's just me. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


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